


A Story To Tell

by Bucky_Loki_Girl



Category: The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Dont like then dont read, F/M, Happy Ending, Not connected to the show, Post-Canon, Probably shit but oh well, Written for a Class, based off the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bucky_Loki_Girl/pseuds/Bucky_Loki_Girl
Summary: A fictional continuation of what happens at the end of Margaret Atwood's book The Handmaid's Tale. Goes a little more in depth about what happened to Offred and connects it a little more to the Historical Note section of the book. My own little twist on things. Written for a class assignment and decided to post it here.





	A Story To Tell

_Nolite te bastardes carborundorum…_

_Faith is only a word, embroidered…_

_It’s all right. It’s Mayday. Go with them…_

_Trust me…_

_What has she done…_

_We can’t say ma’am…_

_Violation of state secrets…_

_I was her hope. I failed her…_

_I step up, into the darkness within; or else the light…_

            The ride was long. I could feel the bumps in the road jostling the van as we drove to whatever destination we were heading to. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wall of the van as I remembered Ofglen’s words to me.

_Mayday_

_Don’t use it unless you have to. It isn’t good for us to know about too many of the others, in the network. In case you get caught._

          Nick had to be a member of the network then. It was the only logical explanation my mind could come up with. If he wasn’t with the network, he wouldn’t have said Mayday to me. I can only hope that this wasn’t some elaborate trick to get me to come willingly. He asked me to trust him, and I should have faith in him to do so, but then I remember the pillow in my old room. Faith is only a word, embroidered.

          The van stops, and I can hear the driver getting out. Moments later, the back doors opened again, revealing Nick. The two men who sat with me help me up and out of the van and hold me steady while Nick removes my cuffs.

          “I got it from here,” he says, “get back before anyone get too suspicious. I’ll keep in touch.” The two others salute him before walking away, climbing into the front of the van and driving away. We watch them go for a few moments before returning our attention back to the reality at hand. I look around to see us standing near a large building, old words barely standing out against the brick. It was dark, only the streetlamps and the lights from inside the building giving light to the area. Looking up, I could see the stars, twinkling in the night sky.

          “Where are we?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

          “A…recovery center of sorts,” Nick replies, hesitant in his explanation. “This is where we bring those who are aware of the network and need to get out. This is the first step into a new life, away from the reaches of Gilead and its oppressive and archaic ways.”

          “And after this?”

          “After this you’ll be set up in a temporary home until you get back on your feet or find someone to live with. After this you are free again. Free to work and read and write and enjoy life. Free to have kids of your own free will and have proper care during and after your pregnancy. It’s like how it was before Gilead took over, but also so much better.”

          “And…what if I wanted to stay with you? If I wanted to live here with you and have a life with you? I mean, I’m still pregnant with your child. Could we have that?”

           Nick smiled, taking my hand in his. “Yes, we could do that. I’d have to work a few things out with the higher ups, make sure a good story was spread into the Republic to cover my sudden disappearance, but yes, we can have a life together here. A real one.”

***

            It’s been a few months since I was rescued by Nick and Mayday. He’s gotten his cover story worked out and now helps at the center full time. I work there too, helping those that come in. I’m visibly showing now, and Nick is quite protective of me, always checking in to make sure I’m not stressing myself or anything like that. He makes sure I’m cared for and always reminds me that I’m loved and that I have a purpose and that I’m worth more than my womb.

            It’s nights like this that I look back to my time in Gilead. Nights where I’m sitting at home, waiting for Nick to return from the shelter. We always come home for dinner and eat together, but then he leaves just in case they bring in more refugees, that way he can help them get settled. If a van isn’t there by 10, then Nick comes home to be with me. Be with us, I should say, mindful of the life we created growing inside me. It’s during this lapse of time where Nick isn’t with me that I pull out the recorder and notebook I had.

           In the notebook is my story, written with as much detail as I can remember. The recorder holds a tape, ready to be filled with the sound of my voice retelling my story. The recorder, and the many tapes that go along with it, will eventually be tucked away somewhere, maybe for others to find in the future. My notebook will most likely go to mine and Nick’s child, to be passed on from generation to generation in hopes of reminding them of the history of our nation as told by someone who lived through it. Though, it may also just be thrown into a firepit to burn, I’m not sure yet.

          Either way, I’m determined to keep my story alive, one story out of many who have suffered. Many who have died, many who didn’t even get to see Gilead at it’s strongest. I’ve lived through it all, from the time before to the time after. Though my notebook nor my tapes go into detail of what happens after I left Gilead, it holds the personal testament of someone who was there. Surely historians will one day look back and think about how life was in the Republic of Gilead, and my story will be a piece of evidence as to what life was like there. I hope that in the future, everyone will know the my story, The Handmaid’s Tale.


End file.
